I have decided that night buses in India are like lucky packets….you just never know what the hell you are going to get and the chances are whatever it is, it’s not going to be too exciting!

Leaving Mount Abu on Sunday I arrived on time (as per stated on the ticket) at 6.30…only to discover that the buses “actual” leaving time was only 7.30. A small monsoon had hit Mount Abu so for the next hour I sat watching the floods and reading my book by penlight (Thank you Karrin) It was during this waiting time and the entire oncoming bus journey that I realised that  my constant need to go the toilet is directly proportional to the availability of such toilet. For example, walking around the whole day or lounging at the hotels when the toilet is next door very rarely sees me needing to go. However have monsoon-like rain torrenting down and me with no umbrella or put me on a bus for 13 hours, it’s guaranteed I will need to go 2-4 at least.

I have also come to realise this…as notorious as Indian people are for giving you attention… it’s usually when you need it the most that you don’t get it! Like for example, when you are standing in the rain with no umbrella and 18 kg of luggage on your back trying to get the guys attention to open the bus boot and he just completely ignores you and just keeps passing other passengers onto the bus. Or when you are so desperate for the toilet that you spend 5 minutes begging the bus driver to let you go at the pickup point and he continues to say no because apparently, the next stop is the toilet stop.

‘Why of course’…….. who would have ever thought of making a toilet stop in a town…where there are actual toilets??? No, no far better to stop in the middle of nowhere and use what could only be described as a ‘Blare Witch house’in the pitch dark about 400 metres away from the road. At first I thought he was kidding, apparently not. So I stumble out the bus and start to make my way down this ditch only to get about 1/6 that of the way down before I come to my senses and decide I am absolutely NOT going to go and squat in some deserted house, or even make it down the ditch in one piece…so yes much to my disgust I had to mid-ditch squat with a couple of very eager faces watching me from the windows. So feeling really exposed I tramped my urine soaked feet (You try aiming in a ditch!!) back onto the bus and into my already wet, (my window had been left open during the monsoon) crumb-filled, mildly smelly sleeper bed. Thank God for small miracles the hooter on this bus was musical and the driver scarcely used it the entire trip.

So as I said 13 hours later I arrived in Jaipur at what can only be described as the loveliest guest house I have seen so far. Just my luck it was also the only place that was fully booked. I agreed to wait till check out time to see if they had any vacancies. That was only another 3 hours of absolute filth to wait. Honest to God I have never in my life been as filthy and disgusting as I have been in India. It seems almost impossible to keep yourself clean here, even my fingernails have started to turn a putrid yellow colour…which I can only imagine is from all the Marsala I have been eating or due to the fact that I have barely seen communal soap anywhere!!!

So I lugged my tired and frustrated bones upstairs determined that there would be a place for me. While waiting I met an English girl in the lounge who was waiting for a doctor. She said that she had been sick for over a week. It says in the Lonely planet that 70% of travellers get sick in their first two weeks in India, and realising that Monday was exactly 2 weeks for me I quietly did a little dance of joy! I had made it two weeks without getting sick!! “YOU go, Gayle, you seasoned traveller you!!!!!! 🙂“

After what seemed like the longest wait ever, they didn’t have a room, but they did have a bed in their dormitory which I happily took. I have never had a problem sleeping in dorms…..until I saw this one. It was like a sweltering hot dungeon. I was sharing it with 6 other English girls, so it looked like a dungeon that a clothes bomb had gone off in. I could barely even sit down there, let alone imagine how I was going to sleep. And the bathrooms were 3 flights of stairs up. Great!

After showering ( in the worst bathroom I have ever showered in, in India) I set off to go and try to do a little bit of exploring…but I have to be honest my heart was not in it. I was hot, angry and frustrated. Everyone said to me that travelling India was hard. But I scarcely took notice of it. How hard could it be compared to other countries? I mean really? How hard?
Extremely hard! I can’t really explain it….but I will try…

• Its the absolute poverty that is surrounding you ALL the time
• the permeating smell of urine and rubbish
• the visible filth that covers the streets
• the insane traffic
• the flies
• the relentless unwanted attention
• the constant spitting (Indian men chew tobacco here)

…..it really is just one of the most unforgiving places I have ever been too. It was at this point where I just thought I can’t bear to even take another night bus…..maybe I should just fly straight to Bangkok? 

…..it literally feels like every city you go to is the same…..even when you are surrounded by beautiful scenery (Mount Abu) the downside is you are still confronted with poverty and filth. 

I think the main reason I came to India was to find an ashram, learn self-discipline, find some peace and some calm and just get to know myself better. So yes I felt mildly annoyed that things were not panning out the way that I had planned. (The only part of me that I am getting to know is the irritable grumpy part- We don’t like that part!) 

So I was walking brewing in my own anger and self-pity when a Rickshaw man named Rakesh stopped to ask me if I wanted a lift. He had one of those bicycle Rickshaw’s were he cycles you everywhere. I said no thanks and just asked him to point me in the direction of the main road. Which he did and then proceed to follow me. Maybe he knew my willpower would give in as it was absolutely boiling hot. It did and he ended up giving me a ride. I then literally spent the next 2 hours with him as he peddled me around in the sweltering heat to the bank, tourist office and an Internet cafe (which I didn’t use because it was appalling) and finally home all the while chattering happily to me. Halfway home he stopped to show me his little tourist book that he had made with pictures of Jaipur sights and random photos of his family and friends. He also had descriptions which he had written in perfect English, which he was very proud of. He was such a lovely, happy soul and I couldn’t believe it when he told me that he worked this job 1-5pm and then went to work as a security guard at a local hotel from 9pm- 9am the next morning, every day. He said he only sleeps 2-3 hours a day in the morning. And yet the man had one of biggest happiest most genuine smiles I have ever seen. I felt mildly shamed as he dropped me off and asked me: “Are you happy? I am very happy to meet you!”

So with a little more determination to make the most of India, I went upstairs to have a late lunch. It was here that I met a lovely English girl, Sarah and her Chinese husband Bill. The oddest couple I have ever met but both incredibly sweet. They invited me to go to an Indian fairground that evening that was about 45 minutes outside of the city. After eating my not so tasty pasta I went to shower and change and we set off. (Things were looking up!;-)

45 minutes later, we arrived and no sooner had I paid to get in than I was in the toilet throwing up. The whole theme park was beautiful, but we were at a bit of a loss as to what to actually do there. They had some dancers, some drummers, puppet shows, camel rides…..but I think it was more geared towards parents with children. I, however, found a lovely bench with cushions on it and simply lay down. It didn’t phase me too much that I wasn’t feeling well, because I could have been stuck at the hotel in the AWFUL dorm and that would have been far worse. As it was I literally lay there for an hour as the others walked around and just enjoyed the peacefulness of it all. The odd runs to the toilet were merely getting rid of my obviously off dinner and soon it would be all out! ( As every seasoned traveller know you don’t order Western food in Foreign countries – This I DO know….not to sure why I didn’t follow it though??) But overall I was happy! 7.30 came and the couple went to go have their dinner (included in the price) …I chatted to a little Indian girl from Philadelphia who came an lay on the cushion next to me. She informed me in the cutest American accent that she too was sick…she had a cough. Before I knew it my vomiting was joined by 3 friends ‘ diarrhoea’ ‘stomach cramps’ and ‘profuse sweating’ By the time the other two came back I was literally shaking and could barely stand…..I had no idea how the hell I was going to get back to the hotel 45 minutes away. We got to the tuk-tuk man who had been waiting for us and Bill asked him if there was a hospital nearby. Luckily there was an emergency centre not even 2 minutes away that he took us too. The doctor had this look on his face that said he has seen this a million times over but was never the less very nice. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why he gave me a handful of pills to swallow when he knew I was throwing up…I just wanted to scream INJECT ME! INJECT ME DAMMIT!!!( you can see I have been here before!)  He also didn’t seem to understand the concept that I was travelling by myself and ALONE, as he kept telling Bill and Sarah what medication to give me and when. They looked horrified at the prospect of having to look after this random sick stranger and kept insisting that they were leaving that night on the 10.30-night bus. I was clearly not their problem. 

Needless to say, it wasn’t a fun experience. 

But herein lies the beauty of the whole night. Our tuk-tuk driver. Bless him! The absolute look of concern on this poor mans face made the entire experience worth going through. While waiting to get into the emergency centre there had been a power cut and I had sat down on the floor still sweating. He came over took Sarah’s jumper from her and started fanning me. He then came right into the doctor’s office and while the Doctor was busy giving Sarah all her instructions, Tuk-Tuk man came up to me. Felt my pulse, and I head and then just stood there holding my arm. On the drive home, we discovered just how fast a Tuk-tuk can really go….and we pretty much made it home in 25 minutes. At one point he pulled off the side of the road at a banana stand because he had heard that the doctor said I should eat bananas. About 5 minutes from home we had to pull over as I hurled my lungs out again and started crying huge pitiful sobs and he just stood there rubbing my back, tutting away and handing me more water. 

When we finally arrived back at the hotel Bill and Sarah couldn’t get out of there fast enough while the poor tuk-tuk man looked like he was going to cry…. he didn’t want to leave me, he was too worried about me, who was going to look after me?  I had to reassure him that I would be OK.
I then ended up having to take a room in the hotel across the road, because there was no way in hell I was going to be able to sleep in the dungeon. Within 20 minutes of me arriving I had both reception boys and really lovely Hindu lady come and check if I was OK. Wanting to know all my symptoms and to see what medicine I had.

And so I have spent my last 3 days pretty much recovering from it all and hence had no news, or no energy to even write anything.

But all is not lost because I have had a couple of profound realizations while staring at the ceiling for 2 days.
No1: My earache is gone! Yeheeee!
No2: I haven’t smoked for 2 weeks and have no intention of starting again!! Yeheeee!!
No3: As horrible as being sick in a foreign country can be I came to the conclusion that if you are going to be sick anywhere in the world…India is the place to do it. After being sick in Turkey, Costa Rica and Spain….the concern and care that is given by Indian people is by far the best.
No4: On scanning the hotel’s second-hand bookshelf I found a copy of Mahatma Gandhi’s autobiography, ‘My experiments with truth‘ which I have always wanted to read. A truly amazing book written by an incredible man, who himself struggled terribly with the uncleanliness of life in India….he however, always forced himself to travel 3rd class, simply so he could experience what the poorer people had to live with. I have decided that I’m no Gandhi, and will definitely NOT be travelling 3rd class, but will try my hardest not to complain about travelling from this point on….(well I will do my best;-)
and last but not least no 4: Maybe simply living the hardship of India, even for a couple of weeks is enough to make you appreciate how amazing our lives are and MAYBE India is not about amazing sights and scenery’s…but simply its true beauty is the incredible, caring, happy people you meet on the way.

And that brings me to the end of my epic 4 days of boredom. I woke up today, headache free and ready to eat a proper meal…so I think I will be leaving Jaipur tomorrow night…all going well.

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